


Angel of the Morgue

by Four_Nostril



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: Amnesia, Cute, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Gen, Mild Gore, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8260159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Four_Nostril/pseuds/Four_Nostril
Summary: Deadpool is a regular at the city morgue.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldfishspleen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldfishspleen/gifts).



> Thanks to goldfishspleen for coming up with the idea of this little thing, and CuriousKiris for seconding it.

*******************

Deadpool woke up in a ball pit. The balls scattered and bounced off the walls of the small room as he sat up. The back part of his hood was torn to shreds and when he touched his head it felt soft and newly regenerated. All limbs were in place, but he could tell that there had been a large hole through his abdomen and chest. He looked around, but the back end of his brain that processed his visual input was still a bit wonky.

After a minute, he realised he was staring at a door. On the door sat a laminated notice.

Good morning, Deadpool.  
You are in the morgue.  
Feel free to leave the room as soon as you have all your limbs and you can figure out the door code.  
The door code is 1002-27= ????

It wasn't signed. This could be a trap. Deadpool drew his swords and approached the door, as silently as possible through the plastic balls. The door had a drilled peephole next to the note, and he looked out. On the other side was a neat break room with uncomfortable but clean furniture, a stove, a fridge, a large collection of 'funny' coffee mugs on the dish rack, and an empty cookie box. There was also a woman with glasses, reading on her phone.

**[She's obese and old! We can kill her!]**

_Hello yellow. But why should we kill her?_

**[She stands between us and the exit!]**

_No, she doesn't._

The lady drank some coffee - from a mug with the Deadpool logo on it. Deadpool decided to come out without his swords up, but he opened the door very slowly and was ready to bolt.

"Morning, sunshine!" She said. She didn't get up, but put down her phone on the table. Deadpool looked around but saw nothing alarming. "You hungry?" she continued, getting up from the chair and moved over to the stove. She opened the oven and took out a large square tray that smelled wonderful. She placed it on a folded newspaper on the table and brought out a plate and fork for Deadpool.

"You said last time that my mushroom-and-aubergine lasagne was to die for. Dig in!"

Deadpool needed to fill his tank after growing back a lot of tissue, and so he sat down. After swallowing a mouthful of water to check that his innards weren't disconnected, he took half the lasagne on his plate and started eating.

"Why was I waking up in a ball pit?" Deadpool asked, between huge bites.

"You really, REALLY, don't like waking up on a stretcher or a slab. So we have the ball pit for you. It's easy to clean and looks innocent when someone asks."

"I've been here before?"

"Brain damage? Here, take this. I need more coffee because it's four in the morning." she said, and got up. She handed Deadpool a pamphlet. He looked at it while he continued eating. The text on the front said 'SO YOU JUST WOKE UP AT THE MORGUE' The image was a generic-looking guy sitting up on a stretcher with the Deadpool logo for a face.

The door opened and a tall and skinny man walked in slowly.

"Hi, Dennis!" Deadpool said.

**[How the FUCK did you know that?]**

_How the fuck did I know that?_

The skinny man nodded and went over to unroll a hose from next to the sink. He opened the door to the ball pit room and started to spray the balls with water.

"Where does the water go?" Deadpool asked.

"Page two." Dennis said.

Deadpool looked at page two, with the header 'Where does the water go'. There was a cross-section drawing of the ball pit room, showing a grid floor and the drain to the sewer. Someone had seen fit to add a sewer rat chewing on a piece of red cloth.

"Dennis and Denise . . ." Deadpool said.

"That's us." Denise said. "Feeling better? You haven't been here very long, just three hours. Some rookies brought you in. I think you were their first head wound, because they both looked pretty green around the gills."

"Won't last a month." Dennis said. A man of few words, apparently.

"Probably not. Which is why we didn't tell them who you were. Every mortician worth his or her salt in this town knows you, but we don't let the rookies in on it. There's a large turnover in this business. So when we know it's you, we put you in the _chambre separée_ and fudge the records. Of course, you don't always regenerate." Denise said.

"What are you talking about? I always regenerate!"

"Not always here, if we only get some parts. And sometimes it's not you. We have made mistakes and put other bodies in there sometimes. Thanks for putting your logo on your person, by the way. And once we had you here in pieces, but also some extra pieces that weren't you. But we just call that 'leftovers'."

"Well, there won't be any leftovers here." Deadpool said, taking the rest of the lasagne. When he had finished it, he got up and checked his pockets. "Is it custom to tip your mortician?"

"YOU sometimes do." Denise said.

"Well, not this time." Deadpool said, after finding no money on his person. "But I'll give you a top rating on your website. Friendly staff, comfortable rooms, continental breakfast – Italy is the continent, right?" Deadpool said.

"Just cause were not a hospital doesn't mean we're not hospitable." Dennis said, and they both waved at Deadpool as he left. Denise looked at Dennis with a surprised expression.

"You made a joke. I've never heard you make a joke before." She said. They were both standing up, facing the door where Deadpool had walked out, as if they were waiting for something. After a short while, the door opened again and Deadpool stuck his head in.

"Um . . . sorry to bother you again, but do you know where I was heading?" Deadpool said.

"Page four." They said in unison. Deadpool turned the pamphlet over. There was a large pink circle with a frilly fake-handwritten verse in it. 'The spider always makes his nest close to his heart' it said.

"Baby-boy!" Deadpool shouted, and was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent too much time on those pamphlet layouts.


End file.
